Vicious (12 page)

“Well, I guess I’ll head off too.” I started getting to my feet but Simon waved me back down.

“No, enjoy your meal. It’s not fair that the stupid poodle ruins everyone’s night. If it dies I’m probably going to lose my job,” Simon moaned.

Connie smacked a kiss onto my cheek. “See ya, babe.”

Awkwardly, I was left staring at Tim who was rolling his eyes as they walked away from us. “Simon’s an idiot. He sucks up to his boss in the hope that he’ll get a promotion but it won’t happen.”

“Why not?”

“He’s not ruthless enough. Not like me. We graduated at the same time, but I’m doing far better career wise.” I had a hard time not grimacing at his arrogance. But I was saved from replying by the waitress coming over to ask if we wanted dessert.

“No, thanks,
” I said quickly before Tim had a chance. Whatever he was thinking, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t see what kind of tip he left the waitress, but I gave her a smile on the way out  as an apology for his behavior.

“Well,” I said, once we were out on the street. “Thanks for dinner. Bye.” I turned to start walking home but he stopped me.

“Wait. I’ll give you a ride home.”

No way.
“Thanks. But it’s not far and it’s a nice night. I’d prefer to walk.”

The easy going smile on his face coll
apsed into a laugh of disbelief. “Are you kidding? I just bought you a meal that cost more than someone like you earns in a month, and you’re just walking off?”

I stepped back. “Good night, Tim,” I said firmly. His hand
came out and gripped my wrist, holding me firmly before I could react.

“No, I know that you’re just as slutty as your friend Connie and I expect—“

I laughed, cutting him off. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. “What’s funny,
bitch
?”

Sill smiling, I said, “Y
ou.” And then I swung at his face with my free hand. My fist caught his eye and he released my hand as he was knocked a few steps backward but he managed to stay on his feet. Pain jarred through my hand but I didn’t let that show. I stood ready for his retaliation. Several people around us laughed.

He clutched at his eye.
“Fucking cunt!”

“Keep your hands to yourself and we won’t have this problem.” It was hard to stay still when he dropped hi
s hand from his eye and moved forward toward me, but I had to stand my ground. I wouldn’t let him win.

“Hey!” The doorman from the restaurant stepped in front of him, and Tim stopped, glaring at the man.

Brody Nicolai appeared as well, looking calm and collected next to the dishevelled Tim. “I don’t have fighting outside my establishment.” He was the same height as Tim, but broader and it suited him. Tim’s eyes widened a moment, and whatever he was going to say died in his throat.

“
She
—“ His hand pointed at me accusingly  then he thought better of it. “Relax. I’m going.” He bent down to grab the keys he had dropped and turned.

“Escort him to his car, plea
se,” Brody told the doorman. The man nodded and moved closer to Tim, who gave me a glare before stalking off.

My hand really hurt now, and I held it with my free hand, clenching my teeth. I felt
Brody’s dark eyes on me and I met his gaze. “He deserved it,” I told him.

“I’m sure he did.
Do you need an ambulance?” he asked coolly, there was no concern there; he just wanted me off the pavement in front of his restaurant.

“He’s the hurt one, not me,” I replied in just as cool of a tone.

“Really? Because your face is completely white and you look like you’re going to faint.” I hated his tone, it was like I was nothing better than something on his shoe.

“It’s fine.” I turned to leave.
I did feel a little light headed, and my hand was screaming at me. I just concentrated on breathing and moving.
It’s just pain, it’s just pain
came that little singsong voice in my head which was reminiscent of a song that my mother used to sing to me when I was little. But I could only remember the tune, and not the words. Anyway, singing that song got me back to my apartment. I half considered going to see the guy on the corner and see what pills he had on him that could kill that pain. But that was more money that I couldn’t afford so I just put on ice on it and tried to think of other things.

I knew the hand wasn’t broken
because I could move it. But it swelled, and my knuckles were bruised and my fingers’ weak. At work, the next evening, my whole hand ached, and I screwed up order after order. It was bad luck that the owner had chosen that night to come in. Usually I thought she came in to see how her son in law was doing, but this time all of her attention was on me. She was such a bitch.

Her hot-
headedness had made her go through a lot of staff while I had been there; which was kind of good because it meant that it was easy to pick up extra shifts when necessary. To my surprise, Brody Nicholai walked in. He seemed sober this time. He had that stern, unfriendly look on his face, and I wondered if he had any other expressions.

He curtly told me his order without any greeting, but as I turned away from him
, he asked briskly, “How’s the hand?”

“It’s good, thanks,” I lied
, and went to give the cook his order.

I fucked up.
I went to pick up a heavy dish, and my injured hand gave way. The dish shattered into vicious glass splinters at my feet, and, unfortunately, at Annie’s feet as well. She had chosen that evening to wear flimsy sandals which exposed most of her skin. She shrieked as those glass shards bit into her, worming their way through her skin to let blood start flowing from her ankles.

But her pain wasn’t enough to let her forget about me. “That’s it! You’ve screwed up for the last time. I want you out!”
The familiarity of that last line resonated through me just like the glass had entered her. I could have helped myself; I could have turned on the charm and got her to change her mind.

Anger, though, got in the way of that. My hand hurt, my feet hurt,
and my
head
hurt. I felt like my brain would burst through my skull, I could already feel it cracking. My notebook and pen dropped to the ground; my apron was next.

“Fine by me, bitch,” I told her in a dry tone that didn’t betray any of the voices in my head that screamed at me that I was stupid.
How will you pay your rent?
they tormented,
How will you live?

I ducked quickly out the back to grab my purse, and with no further glance back, I walked out those doors and into the night.
I just walked, waiting for the enormity of what I’d done to hit me. When it did, I wasn’t even out of the parking lot. What was the point of going back to the apartment when they’d be kicking me out soon enough? Maybe I could go to the beach, maybe I could just walk into the ocean and keep going…

“I’ll buy you a drink.”

“What?” I snapped out of my reverie of despair as I was confronted with an unsmiling Brody. I hadn’t noticed that he had followed me out.

“Get in.” He indicated with his head toward his car before he walked around to the driver’s door. I just
stood there looking at the black vehicle with its dark tinted windows. Firstly, I thought, how arrogant, but then I thought, why not? What did I have to lose?
Absolutely nothing
was the answer to that question.

The engine started, and I opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. The leather interior
smelled new and expensive; it was meticulously clean. I snuck a look at Brody; his eyes were firmly on the road as he drove. He didn’t spare a glance at me, and for a moment I wondered if he even cared if I were there or not.

I only spoke when he pulled
the car into the garage of an apartment building. “I thought you were buying me a drink.” My tone was even and calm, almost defeatist because we both knew why he had brought me here, and it wasn’t for conversation.

His eyes flicked to me quickly. “I changed my mind.” He stepped out of the car
, and I followed suit. The garage was filled with high-end cars. Our footsteps echoed over the space as we walked to the lift. He didn’t speak to me, or even really look at me once we were in the lift. There was no surprise when we went up to the penthouse suite.

It was beautiful, but I made sure not to reveal my astonishment. I expected everythi
ng to be cold and hard surfaces, but there were warm woods, sumptuous fabrics and rich colors. I guessed that he had an interior designer take care of that kind of thing for him. And the view, of course, was amazing. It overlooked the sea, and the full moon was reflected in the ever-shifting ocean waters. I went straight to the enormous windows to see the view which stretched up and down the coastline. I took in a sharp breath as I marvelled at it.

A glass was pushed into my hand. Bubbles trickled up in the
champagne, or I guessed that was what it was. I had never had it before; not the real stuff. For my birthday, David and Laila had taken me to a restaurant, and I had drunk some pink bubbly stuff that had tasted foul. I guessed that this would be very different. I took a tentative sip, and it tasted wonderful. Arms went around my waist, and a kiss was placed on my neck. I turned to see an amused looking Brody. I knew he was going to try and kiss me on my mouth, so I took another drink instead.

His response to this was
to remove the flute from me altogether and place it down on a circular table. There was no question here who was in power, but that was no surprise because that was how it normally was with most men regardless of economic status.

“I don’t like to kiss on the mouth,” I told him. Only with Damon…but he did look a little like Damon, and in a darkened room, maybe I could play pretend…

“I do.” He kissed me hard, holding the back of my neck so there was nowhere for my lips to run to. His kiss was coaxing, almost playful, and I closed my eyes, and pretended he was Damon. Kissing back felt almost natural, and I was only slightly aware of him pulling up my t-shirt and his hands releasing my bra at the back. It too was pushed up and replaced by his hands cupping my breasts while his thumbs roamed over my nipples. It was good to be touched; it had been so long and I pushed forward into his hold. Then his hands were moving to pull my t-shirt over my head and pull my bra completely free. My eyes flared open as I realized that the lights were on brightly, and I was on display.

“Wait.” I folded my arms over my chest, while he looked down at me, frowning. “Turn the lights off.”

He waited a beat, then, “No.”

I swallowed. “Please? It’s a full moon,
and the light will flood in here. It will be…nice.” Nice was the best word that I could think of.

His mouth made a line of displeasure,
but he walked away and picked up a remote from the table and pressed on it. The lights went off, and I was left standing in the moonlight. This was better. I was bathed in the light just the way I should be. I felt power surge through my veins, I felt pure and seductive all at once. I removed my own jeans and panties so I stood before him naked. I wanted him to see me as a goddess. I wanted him to worship at my feet.

Maybe it was my imagination, but something changed on his face then
. He stood still in the light, and his face seemed made of stone. I took a step forward to breach the gap between us, there was just an inch of space at the most. He looked down at me, and it seemed that he was barely breathing. I removed his clothes, manipulating his limbs until I had him nude. His muscle created a canvas of cut lines and smooth expanses. I trailed my finger down his chest and to the base of his cock, which stood erect and hard. I wrapped my hand around the base, enjoying the feel of it controlled by
me.
I sunk down to my knees in front of him, at odds with the power I craved, but I was a realist and magic did not exist. I knew the way to a man’s desire.

I licked the l
ength of his cock, from base to tip, where I curled my tongue around the head and sucked hard. But I would not let him cum like that. I pulled him down so he could take me from behind. He lowered his head between my legs in a way that felt too intimate. I tried to pull him away but he would not go. He kept licking with more exuberance until I felt myself build up. That’s when he slid effortlessly into me, and we rocked against each other like that while I kept my eyes on the moon. It burned bright and full in front of me and that’s how I came.

We s
tayed like that for a while; him buried deep within me while I never removed my eyes from the moon. When his breathing returned to normal, he withdrew and got to his feet. I kneeled there and wondered if there was someone out there on a boat with binoculars who had just watched our act.

Light flooded the room, and the moonlight was gone. I grabbed for
my clothes, holding them up against me. “You can have a shower if you want,” he said. His manner was the same: cool and apparently unimpressed. He nodded with his head, and I got to my feet, moving past him and in the direction that he had indicated toward. The door was open, and blinding marble covered the floor, snaking up the walls and only interrupted by fittings that reeked of elegance and money.